


Covers

by AdventTraitor



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: M/M, Sinja
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 11:08:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2848697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdventTraitor/pseuds/AdventTraitor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ja'far likes to test Sinbad's limits, and he always gives in before the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Covers

**Author's Note:**

> This is pure smut. There is no plot. Merry Christmas!! I had planned to add more to it, but I really just wanted to post it. I may edit and add the portion I was planning on later if you check back at all.

Sinbad dropped himself gracelessly to the bed, landing partially on the plush surface of the covers, but mostly on top of Ja’far. His face was pressed into the other’s back, and he took the opportunity to push his shirt up and blow a raspberry.

Ja’far remained motionless, his own face buried in a pillow.

After a few moments, Sinbad huffed and moved so his chin rested on the other’s spine. “Ja’far. Play with me.”

No response.

A frown graced Sinbad’s expression at the continued lack of acknowledgement, so he raised himself to his elbows and moved until his lips hovered mere centimeters over the back of Ja’far’s neck, knowing that when he spoke his breath would cause goose bumps to appear on the pale skin beneath him.

“If you don’t answer me, I’ll make you regret it,” he growled, making sure to get the hoarse edge to his voice that he knew made Ja’far squirm.

Better, he _writhed_. Gray eyes opened a fraction, his head turning just enough to let him answer without being too muffled.

“Oh?” he asked with reserved mirth. “Is daddy gonna spank me?”

A golden eye twitched as Sinbad set his jaw. Well, if Ja’far wants to play it that way…

“Keep that up and daddy’s gonna fuck you til you cry,” Sinbad grunted, letting one hand rest heavily between Ja’far’s shoulder blades while the other reached around to pull at the fastenings on his pants.

The breath left Ja’far’s lungs in a silent huff as the weight of the other man fell on him, though he couldn’t stop himself from chuckling breathlessly after. It wasn’t hard to rile Sinbad up, but if he wasn’t careful he would truly wake the beast; did he want to walk tomorrow? Was it worth it? Nothing important usually happens on Sundays, right? And besides, if he pouted, Sin would do any bidding he might have.

In other words, yes, it was worth it.

“Hmmm…it’s been a while since you’ve made me cry…I’m beginning to wonder if you’re even capable of it anymore,” he smiled, the challenge and fake innocence in his tone sure to drive Sinbad into a frenzy.  
Sinbad was motionless for a moment before he flipped Ja’far onto his back, causing the other to let out a squeak in surprise. Amber eyes bore down into Ja’far’s, the icy glare causing him to raise his arms in submission almost immediately. Sinbad would never hurt him, not in any way he didn’t like…but sometimes, the look in his eyes was less human and more… _predator_.

“…Are you testing me?” he asked after a long moment, unblinking as he took in the sight of Ja’far below him.

The smaller man bit his lip, becoming more excited as the seconds went by.

“Because if you are, I warn you that I’m at my limit. Press any further, and you know what you’re getting yourself into,” Sinbad continued, his voice soft, low, and sultry.

Alarms were blaring in Ja’far’s head as he stared up into the other’s gaze, but he ignored them in favor of what he knew would be one of the best nights he’d had in a while.

“…I know,” Ja’far answered softly, his throat constricting with a hard swallow. When had his mouth gone so dry? “And I want to.”

Sinbad raised an eyebrow. “You sure?” His gaze softened a bit as he took a more pensive expression. “You can’t complain tomorrow, then. Okay?” he asked, eyes narrowing again.

“I know,” Ja’far repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. He was having a hard time focusing his eyes now, and he could feel the flush creeping up his neck and across his cheeks. He took a deep, shaky breath through his nose, closing his eyes as he squirmed slightly at the lack of movement between them. “Are you gonna fuck me or not?”

The possessive glint returned to Sinbad’s eyes, only becoming stronger as he removed Ja’far’s clothing, slowly and purposefully, leaving him bare and shivering on the sheets, his legs lifted and bent at the knee, arms still lifted so that his hands were near his face. Sinbad sat back, admiring the sight beneath him for a moment as he took in pale skin and dark freckles, the little trembles wracking his body in anticipation, the little whimpers he tried to keep in…

His hand wandered to the front of his pants, watching Ja’far’s fluttering eyes open a fraction at the sound of his zipper being pulled. Slowly, he shimmied his pants to hang low on his hips, taking his own cock in his hand and stroking languidly, his eyes dark as he continued to stare down at the other below him. He watched Ja’far’s hitching breaths get faster, watched the trembling in his raised legs become more pronounced, but once he saw him biting down on his lips, Sinbad wasn’t content just to watch any longer.

He pushed Ja’far’s legs apart with ease, letting soft thighs wrap around his waist and cling there. Sinbad took a moment to pull his shirt over his head, tossing it haphazardly before resting his hands heavily on either side of Ja’far’s head, pressing into the mattress below them. His long, violet hair hung like a curtain around them, Ja’far helpless not to twist his fingers into the strands that fell near his hands.

“Now…what was it you said to me earlier?” Sinbad murmured, leaning down to press the words into Ja’far’s ear.

Gray eyes widened as his hands moved to cling to Sinbad’s back, his nails scratching down Sinbad’s spine. He bit his lip, his neck arching slightly when he felt a bite at the skin just below his ear. His lips parted to respond, but decided to remain silent instead; this was still a game where he held most of the power, and he delighted in pushing Sinbad’s limits to get at what he wanted.

A hand reached up and grabbed a fistful of snowy hair, pulling hard enough to sting. Sinbad’s eyes were intent as he lifted himself just high enough to look into Ja’far’s eyes, the grip in his hair tightening as the seconds went by.

Ja’far didn’t keep his gaze long, choosing to look away in submission after a short time.

“I’m not crying yet,” was all he said, a challenge wrapped in a whisper.

“Yet,” Sinbad echoed, sitting up and watching his hands trail down a pale stomach only to grab at soft thighs. He admired the indents in the skin his fingers caused, and imagined the bruises that would show the next morning—the slow boil began to rise within him, and he looked again to Ja’far’s flushed face.

“I’m losing patience,” came the low murmur, even as he watched Ja’far writhe and arch from his own slickened fingers reaching deep inside. “…Something you wanted?” he asked with a cruel smirk.

Ja’far pouted, his arms crossing over his face. It was always near this point that he lost his own control, always wanting so _badly_ that he didn’t care who was in control anymore—but this was a test not only for Sinbad, but for himself as well. 

That resolve wavered when Sinbad rubbed against that place—he _knew_ it drove him crazy, and Ja’far bit down on his own lip to try and keep some sense of sanity. He couldn’t control the whine that escaped, nor the bucking of his hips. One of his hands stole down to reach for his own neglected cock, but Sinbad grabbed his wrist and forced his arm over his own head, causing his back to arch up. The other soon followed, both of his hands held captive by one of Sin’s.

Sinbad leaned down close, his mouth nipping at Ja’far’s ear as his eyes lidded once again. “I don’t know what you want if you don’t tell me,” he murmured, the hoarse edge to his voice a testament to his own discomfort. His other hand stopped teasing at Ja’far’s entrance, instead moving to stroke at himself again, grunting at the sensation and imagining being buried in that tight, tight heat.

Ja’far was panting, his eyes locked on the movement from Sin’s hand. Fine, fuck it all, he’ll fail his own stupid test if it’ll push Sinbad over the edge and leave him bruised and sore and unable to move for at _least_ a whole day.

“F-fuck me,” he stuttered, breathless and whining between words. “Fuck me so hard—I’ll cry, and scream, and—and beg, _please_ \--“

He cut himself off with a shriek, Sinbad thrusting in hard with a ragged groan of his own, his hips giving a few jerking shoves before he picked a fast, merciless pace, one hand still holding Ja’far’s wrists above his head while the other dug into a pale hipbone. His eyes were unfocused, teeth grit and bared, a low growl emanating from his chest as he lost himself in the feel of the other.

It took only seconds for Ja’far’s eyes to overflow with tears, the moans and cries and screams leaving his throat hoarse. He had no control anymore, and he _loved_ it—he let Sinbad take every part of him, and became just as lost in the sensation.

It wasn’t enough—it never was, it would never be enough no matter how often or how long or how good it was, Sinbad always wanted more. He let Ja’far’s wrists go, instead grasping at his slim waist and pulling him into every thrust. He could feel the bruises being pulled to the surface, and that only encouraged him further, the sound and feel of the slap of his own hips against Ja’far’s ass driving him to the point of insanity.

Ja’far heard himself scream as he came, tensing and scoring his fingernails down the length of Sin’s back. He couldn’t remember ever coming harder than he just did, leaving him boneless and weak, the tears still streaming down his face as he hiccupped while searching for breath. His eyes were glazed as he watched Sin above him, still thrusting at a frantic pace, causing his long hair to shake with every movement.

With a grunt, he pulled out of Ja’far and flipped him over, grabbing at his hips to pull them up until his ass was in the air, supported by shaky and untrustworthy knees. With no warning, he forced himself back inside, picking up his furious pace as if he’d never stopped. Ja’far wailed, his hands fisting into the covers as Sinbad simply _used_ him. Even if his body gave out—as he suspected it already had—Sin’s hands were like vices, drilled into the skin of his hips and his thighs, keeping him upright until he decided otherwise.

Sinbad didn’t know anything other than the urgent demand for dominance, for pleasure and to stake his claim—silly, if he were in his right mind, and unnecessary to boot, but there was nothing but the beast now. The soft noises of weakness and submission and pleasure Ja’far made did nothing but spur him on, his feral ego boosted all the more for them. His knuckles were white, his hands shaking for how hard his own grip was on Ja’far, but his mind was only on his own impending completion. With a snarl between clenched teeth, he came hard, his hips jerking forward a few times before he simply collapsed.

Ja’far grunted when the weight of the other fell on top of him, but he gave no indication that he wanted out from under him. Sinbad was heavy, but he was warm, and he was _his_ , and everything was perfect in his sore, glazed-vision afterglow.

After a few minutes, maybe more than a few, he felt one of Sin’s hands slide up his back, felt his weight shifting beside him as he was rolled over again. Ja’far made a face at his own soreness, and at the feel of the slickness dripping down the insides of his thighs. He forgot them—or at least, they were moved to a less important place in his mind when Sinbad kissed him, a long, deep kiss that brought him back to himself after a few minutes.

He wrapped his pale arms around Sin’s neck, biting at the other’s lower lip and pulling. “Daddy can fuck me til I cry more often,” he muttered, nuzzling their noses together.

Sinbad grunted, his hand squeezing at Ja’far’s waist for a moment before relaxing again. “You’re asking for trouble. You _know_ I can keep going if I really want to.” He nipped at Ja’far’s cheek, before moving back to his mouth and pushing his tongue in.

The soft, wet noises continued until Ja’far broke away for air, though he kept their lips touching. “I know. I’m thinking about it.”

“Your ass can’t take it.”

“Sounds like a challenge.”


End file.
